Empty Rooms and Crowded Halls
by AquaQuadrant
Summary: They tell me twisted lies, and they tell me that they're helping me, but every passing day just drives me closer to insanity... (Mortal AU Based off of Psych, a series of free-verse poems. Full info inside)
1. Forward

**Forward**

Hello, readers! I included this forward for very important reasons, so please read!

This is a story based on a series of free-verse poems I wrote a while back called Psych. It is an AU fic, where they're all humans and living in a mental care facility. This story contains sensitive material that I needed to discuss before introducing the chapters.

**1.** Please note that I am not a doctor, therapist, psychotherapist, ect. Some of the mental illnesses/disorders I will feature may not be accurate, and I apologize for that, but when it comes down to it this is a work of fiction, not a documentary.

**2.** Please remember that mental illnesses/disorders are different for every person who experiences them. These are merely a few examples of a specific case. These are not representations of every case of mental illness/disorders.

**3.** This is not an accurate representation of a mental facility. All psychiatric wards, mental hospitals, ect, are different. This particular mental facility is not ideal and not realistic. It would probably get shut down if it were real. Please note that not all mental hospitals are like this. They are not scary. If you or someone you know is struggling with a mental illness/disorder, then don't be afraid to seek help.

**4.** This is a **TRIGGER WARNING**. This story is rated T for a very good reason. It may contain violence in the future, possible swearing, anorexia, depression, and _mentions_ of abuse and rape. There will be self-harm (cutting, burning) described in considerable detail, as well as many dark themes like suicide/attempted suicide.

**5.** I also wanted to let you know that the POV will alternate between all of the Seven (plus Nico and Rachel) at least once each, with maybe a few guest POV's by random characters. The narration will very likely differentiate greatly between characters, based on their current mental condition/stability. I hope this doesn't get too confusing.

**6.** I am not intending to insult anyone who is dealing with/has dealt with a mental illness/disorder. I am not enforcing any stereotypes, like saying anorexics are attention-starved, or schizophrenics are insane. Many of these views are held by the characters about _themselves _due to insecurity and self-hatred. Please note that this story will not contain any of my personal views on mental illness/disorders, just some opinions from very bitter people.

**7.** This story was planned and partly written before House of Hades came out, so Nico will not have romantic feelings towards Percy. This isn't because I hate gay characters, because I don't. I just didn't plan for it, and it doesn't fit into my original storyline. So yes, I'm going to have to deviate from the cannon, but hey, this is an AU story.

**8.** The Olympian gods will be appearing as nurses and guards employed at the facility. I will put a * by the character's name whenever they appear. I think you'll be able to guess which god they're based off.

I really want to stress that I intend no harm. This is a story about overcoming mental illnesses/disorders, and healing. Thank you for reading this, if you did.

And now, without further ado, please read on and enjoy Empty Rooms and Crowded Halls! :) - Aqua.


	2. White Walls and Pudding Cups

**Author's Note: VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! Okay, this is the much awaited (not really) fic inspired by series of free-verse poems called Psych. Remember, this is an eventual trigger warning, so proceed with caution. In other news, this is an AU. They're all humans. No Greek Gods or such, but they'll appear as mortal nurses and guards and such. Yea. Thanks for reading this. Hope you like.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the PJO series, the HoO series, or their characters.**

**And now, without further ado, please read on and enjoy Chapter One! :) - Aqua,**

* * *

**Percy's POV**

Being admitted to a mental health facility was not my ideal way to spend the holidays.

I mean, it's not like I _asked_ to be kidnapped. It's not like I _asked_ for amnesia, and PTSD, and violent nightmares. And I certainly didn't _ask_ to be forced to abandon my mom and leave her with three minimum wage jobs and Smelly Gabe (who's currently unemployed, by the way)

But hey, it's not like they asked me anyways.

It was what's 'best for me'. They thought they knew everything... I was seventeen, for crying out loud! I wasn't a child! I mean, sure, I could see how falling into fits of delirium and attacking my doctors and therapists could be considered a problem, but still... being issued a court order to attend a virtual _insane asylum_ rubbed me the wrong way.

My mom tried to help. She told me that it wasn't a mental hospital for 'crazies', just a place where people could get better and learn to cope.

But when we arrived at Olympus Institution, a long-term mental health care facility, I got a bad feeling right away. The building was extremely corporate, basically a concrete box. During the tour, I visited the yard in the back, and it was a depressing sight. It was basically a field of dirt choked with weeds and patches of dried grass, covered by a thin layer of frost and surrounded by high barred fences. The inside of the facility had white tile floors, and white plaster walls with fluorescent lighting.

Even the 'lounge' was washed up. It was two old white couches sitting in front of a TV on stained, smelly carpet. All the windows had bars on them. The cafeteria was what you'd find in any low-budget elementary school, with plastic white tablecloths taped onto plastic white tables and surrounded by white metal folding chairs.

They took my luggage right away and gave me a uniform; a white cotton T-shirt with gray sweatpants. Not the most flattering look.

There were lots of patients shuffling around in identical outfits. I noticed that they were wearing a variety of wristbands; mostly green or yellow, but a few were red.

The next stop on the tour was the bedrooms. My room was basically empty; just a white bed and a white dresser on white floors and white walls. Needless to say, I was quickly getting sick of the color white. But compared to the crowded halls of the facility, full of rambling patients, stiff guards, and bustling nurses, the quiet, empty room was a nice change of pace.

We went back to the lobby to say goodbye. It was a large space with a check-in desk and a few seating areas. Basically like a hotel lobby, except way less fancy (and mostly white), and the doors were equipped with metal detectors.

I could tell this was hard on my mom. Sally Jackson was a strong woman, but her composure had slipped. She looked tired, and her eyes were much too old for her age.

"Mom, I'm gonna be okay." I reassured her, trying to comfort her. I really did _not_ like this place, but I didn't want to make this any harder for her. "I'll be out before you know it!" My voice was dripping with fake optimism.

She smiled halfheartedly, wrapping me in a hug.

"You be good, Percy." She told me, her eyes watery. "I'll visit whenever I can, but with my jobs..." She trailed off, looking distressed.

My throat grew tight, but I forced a smile anyways.

"It's fine, mom." I waved her away. "I'll be fine. Visit whenever, it's no biggie. Really."

She studied me for a moment.

"I'm going to miss you." My mom sighed.

"Me too." I kissed her on the cheek, offering her a small smile. "But I'll get through this, and so will you. Okay?"

"Okay, Percy." My mom smiled. She subtly glanced at her watch, and my heart sank. I knew what that meant. "I've got to go." She said apologetically. "I love you, Percy."

"Love you too, mom." I replied, my eyes pricking. God, why did this have to be so hard? "Take care of yourself." I told her seriously. "If I hear that Gabe's been giving you a hard time..." My tone hardened.

"Percy, I'll be fine." She responded casually, but I didn't miss the flash of anxiety in her eyes. "See you soon."

And then she was gone.

I stood there for a while, staring at the closed doors with anxiety building up in my chest. This wasn't right. What was I doing? I couldn't leave her, not with Gabe... Maybe I should...

"Ahem."

I turned around quickly, slipping into a fighting stance. Standing in front of me was a man wearing a nurse's uniform, looking slightly surprised. I relaxed, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly.

"Sorry." I told him, taking in his appearance. He looked to be around his early forties, with messy black hair and an unshaven face. His eyes were purple, but not particularly bright, and he wore a bored expression. He had a plastic ID badge on a lanyard around his neck which read _Nurse Dion_. *

"You're Peter Johnson, I assume?" He asked impatiently.

I frowned.

"Actually, it's Percy Jackson." I corrected him.

The man sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Jackson, Johnson, what does it matter?" He snapped irritably. "Point is, you're on my patient list, which means I'll be your 'caretaker'. I'll bring you your medicine and take notes of your behavior, and all that good stuff. So expect to see a lot of me." Dion said.

"Hooray.." I muttered under my breath. Apparently, Dion had better hearing than I'd originally anticipated, because his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, funny guy, huh? Well, let me tell you this. If you don't shape up, we have ways of dealing with _discipline problems_ around here." He glowered. "The better you behave, the better life here will be for you, got it?" Dion demanded.

"Yes." I replied stiffly. I had already developed an intense dislike for Nurse Dion. I could tell a bully when I saw one.

"Good. Oh, and another thing." Dion added. "You will refer to me as sir, understand?"

I grit my teeth.

"Yes, _sir_." I growled, clenching my fists.

Dion nodded, satisfied.

"There's hope for you yet." He muttered snidely. Dion suddenly turned on his heel and began to briskly walk across the lobby, calling over his shoulder. "Follow me, Perry."

Scowling, I trailed after the irritating nurse, trying to ignore the curious looks I was receiving from the other patients. A few looked sympathetic, and I wondered if Dion was assigned to them as well.

I soon found myself in a small room that was nearly identical to a doctor's office; small, sterile, and very _very_ white. Nuse Dion gestured for me to sit on the examination table, which I did with some trepidation. I wasn't a big fan of doctors.

Dion began to shuffle through some papers, which I recognized as my medical (and behavioral) history. He clucked his tongue, shaking his head condescendingly.

"Patrick, Patrick, Patrick..." He sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"It's Percy." I reminded him, my temper rising.

Dion raised an eyebrow at me.

"Sir." I added begrudgingly.

The nurse studied me for a moment before shrugging. "You have quite the medical history." He told me, sounding uninterested. "It seems you have violent tendencies, and sometimes have 'extreme episodes of rage'. You also seem prone to memory lapses, paranoia, and depression. Is this true?"

Swallowing my anger at his superior tone, I nodded.

Nurse Dion looked amused.

"Well, looks like you get a red band." He said casually, digging through one of the cupboards.

"What's a red band?" I asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He ignored me, closing the cupboard after retrieving a red plastic bracelet and a sharpie. He began to write on the band.

"Name?"

"Seriously?" I was getting fed up with this guy. "Percy Jackson. Now what's going-"

"Room Number?"

"Uh, 3-03, I think. But why are you-"

"Hold out your wrist." Dion ordered.

"But-"

"Now." He pressed. Sighing, I held out my right hand. Dion fastened the band around my wrist, like the bracelets you get at hospitals, except this was made of sturdy plastic. When he finished, I withdrew my arm, studying the bracelet. It didn't say much.

P.J. 3-03. Level 3.

"What's level three mean?" I inquired, watching as Dion began to file my papers away. He turned to face me, his right eyebrow raised.

"You're not very bright, are you?" He asked accusingly. "Level 3 means that you're one of our more _dangerous_ patients. Congratulations." He said dryly.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Dion flung open the door.

"You're free to go." He told me. "Lunch is at noon, outdoor time is at three. Visiting hour is at four thirty, and dinner's at 6. Curfew is at 9:00 sharp. You'll get your first dose of meds with breakfast tomorrow, which is at 7:30. You'll find a daily schedule hanging in both the lounge and the lobby. If you have any questions feel free to ask me or another nurse, but preferably not me. We hope you enjoy your stay here at Olympus Institution." He droned.

I shot him a death glare and left the room.

I was seething. The nerve of this guy! I couldn't believe that he hadn't been fired yet! Speaking of which, I wondered who the boss of this place was. Did they just let their employees have free reign of the institution, completely unsupervised?

What a jerk. I was mostly upset not because he was rude to me, but because he'd probably been this mean to other people, too. People who were in a vulnerable place, and probably at their lowest point. And that was not okay in my book.

I decided to head back to my room to cool down a bit. Strong emotions usually triggered an episode, and I didn't want to cause trouble on my first day. I noticed a clock on my wall, which read 10:18. Looks like I had a while until lunch.

Sighing, I laid down on my white bed and watched the white ceiling as the seconds ticked by on the white clock.

When I got out of here, I was going to repaint every white thing back at my apartment. Everything. All this white was giving me a headache...

I closed my eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

I slept for around an hour, and ended up spending the remaining time walking around aimlessly, like many of my fellow patients.

Twelve o'clock found me sitting at the white cafeteria tables, staring at a styrofoam tray of 'food'.

I say 'food' because the meal in front of me looked like a TV dinner with freezer burn; pasty mashed potatoes, slices of dry, gray turkey, and limp, dull green beans sorely lacking salt. This was paired with a sugar free pudding cup and a styrofoam cup of watery juice.

Unappetizing food aside, I found it hard to eat because almost all the nurses were watching us, clipboards in hand. My guess was that they had to monitor our calorie intake. I actually didn't blame them. Many of the patients were thin and sickly looking, and in desperate need of a good, hearty meal.

I could tell they wouldn't get it here.

Hesitantly, I picked up my plastic spork and dipped it into the mashed potatoes, cringing at the odd squishing sound. I only got a spoonful (sporkful?) down before I gagged. They had such an off-putting texture; it was like trying to eat snot. How did they even _do_ that to those poor potatoes?

I gave up on the spuds and managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of bone-dry turkey, washing it down with the unidentifiable juice. The green beans were as I expected; soggy, tasteless vegetables, but I was able to finish them.

I glanced around, wondering if anyone else was having the same difficulties. There weren't too many people; maybe 60? Some I could tell had been here a while. They were eating quietly, their posture withdrawn and their eyes tired. Some of the new patients were staring at the food, mortified, while others were at least attempting to choke it down.

The cafeteria was full of interesting characters.

Two patients were having a rousing conversation on the other side of the cafeteria. One was an Asian teenaged boy, stockily built with a baby face, and the other was a thirteen-year old girl with dark skin and contrasting golden eyes. They seemed to be having a great time, laughing and carrying on. I couldn't hear very well, but I was pretty sure the guy was talking in falsetto with a heavy New York accent, like your stereotypical hair dresser.

A sixteen-year old Hispanic boy was using his spork as a mashed potato launcher. Taking careful aim at an unsuspecting patient, he fired the spuds with impeccable accuracy, hitting the unfortunate victim squarely in the back of the head. The boy thrust his fist into the air victoriously, grinning like a madman, and I caught sight of the red bracelet around his wrist. A guard quickly hurried over and took him by the arm, leading him out of the cafeteria and reprimanding him all the while.

The person he'd hit, a teenage guy with blonde hair and electric blue eyes, didn't seem upset by the potato assault. He simply rolled his eyes and wiped the spuds out of his hair. Then he went back to eating his meal, as if having starch launched his way was a daily occurrence.

My gaze fell on a teenage girl who looked of Cherokee descent. She was eating her food slowly and deliberately, as if to prove a point. She was a beautiful girl; her features were strong and defined but not off-putting, and her eyes were a brilliant mixture of bright colors. The girl looked a little younger than me, but she held herself with dignity and maturity. She wasn't really my type, but I felt a rush of concern when I noticed how underfed she was. She also seemed vaguely familiar, like the face of a nameless celebrity you see when you glimpse the tabloids in the supermarket checkout line. One nurse in particular seemed focused on the girl.

The girl finished her tray, swiftly picked it up, and walked over to the trash can, dropping it in with a loud clatter. She sent the nurse a challenging glare before striding from the room, her chin held up defiantly.

The nurse quickly followed after her.

I didn't know what to make of the whole scene. A few people had noticed, but they quickly lost interest and went back to their inadequate meals.

I turned back to my own tray, my unsatisfied stomach urging me to try the pudding.

I picked up the small plastic container and pulled the foil lid off, plunging my spork into the treat. To my surprise, it wasn't horrible. Sure, it was tasteless (it's sugar free, after all) but it was edible, and enough to quiet my stomach.

Sighing, I disposed of my mostly eaten meal and left the cafeteria.

I could tell I was in for an interesting day.


	3. Timid Smiles and Shaky Hands

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! Hope you liked the first chapter. Just want to let you know that Annabeth's POV will greatly differ from, say, Percy's. I try to alter narration based on the person, and their current mental condition. Annabeth will be very organized and specific, relying heavily on exact times and such. Just a quick recap; Annabeth is here being treated for depression (self-harm). **

**In the poetry series, Annabeth was described as having Asperger's Syndrome. In this story, it'll probably be closer to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, so she will exhibit a lot of repetitive behaviors, as well as an intense need to timekeep. I apologize if anything is incorrect, but remember that I am not a trained doctor/therapist/psychotherapist/ect. Thank you.  
**

**Oh, and the other characters will be introduced in pairs in the next few chapters. Jason, Piper. Frank, Hazel. Nico, Leo. Not specifically in that order. And then Rachel will arrive. They will all meet in due time.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the PJO series, the HoO series, of their characters.**

**And now, without further ado, please read on and enjoy Chapter Two! :) - Aqua.**

* * *

**Annabeth's POV**

I'd been running on autopilot for a while now, and today was no exception.

**5:47 am**: On 12/16/12, I woke up exactly thirteen (13) minutes earlier than yesterday, 12/15/12, but exactly one (1) hour and forty-three (43) minutes earlier than I'm supposed to. This is not uncommon for me. Irregular sleep patterns are standard.

**5:47-7:30 am**: I stared at the darkened ceiling, shifting position every five (5) minutes.

**7:30 am**: A nurse officially woke me up by turning the light on one (1) time. She greeted me, but I didn't respond.

**7:34 am**: I actually got up and dressed in my uniform, the same old white shirt with grey sweatpants. Before I left my room, I made sure to turn the light off and on twelve (12) times.

**7:37-7:41 am**: I went to breakfast and sat down at my usual table in the back of the Cafeteria with my tray of oatmeal (it probably wasn't oatmeal), a bran muffin, and artificial tasting orange juice. I finished my tray without complaint.

**7:41-7:42 am**: I took two (2) antidepressant pills with a styrofoam cup of what was obviously tap water. The nurse asked me how I was feeling. I didn't answer.

**7:42-7:56 am**: I went back to my room (I'm a quick eater) and brushed my teeth exactly seven (7) times, with each brushing lasting exactly two (2) minutes. It tasted really bad after the orange juice.

**7:56-8:15 am**: I sat on my bed and stared at the ceiling for nineteen (19) minutes. The 'second' hand on my clock ticked exactly one thousand one hundred and forty (1,140) times. I didn't count the seconds, it's just simple math.

**8:15 am**: I exited my room, flicking the light switch exactly twelve (12) times.

**8:16-9:40 am**: I wandered through the Institution, starting from my room on the left wing, walking down the hallway and turning right, back into the Cafeteria. I walked diagonally across the Cafeteria, into another hallway on the Cafeteria's north wall, turned left, and entered the Art Therapy Room. I sat down at the second (2nd) table and found a Sudoku book, which had exactly one hundred and fifty (150) puzzles, twenty-seven (27) of which were already completed, with fifteen (15) being incorrect. I finished the book at 9:35 and spent the remaining five (5) minutes staring at the wall.

**9:40-9:41 am**: I exited the Art Therapy Room, walked down the hallway, turned left into the Lobby, walked across the Lobby diagonally, and sat down at the table in the upper left corner, next to the doors.

**9:41-10:03 am**: I stared out the windows of the Lobby for twenty-two (22) minutes. One (1) patient approached me, but I did not acknowledge them, and they left after one (1) minute and thirty-four (34) seconds.

**10:04** **am**: A new boy entered the Lobby. He was accompanied by his mother, and he appeared to be checking in.

I was instantly drawn to him.

He had messy, windblown hair; colored inky black and fluid, and peppered with light snowflakes from the outside flurries. He had an olive complexion, and healthy skin bitten by frost. The boy's eyes captivated me; they were alight with nervous energy, but wary, scanning his surroundings as if checking for any signs of danger. They were the most brilliant shade of viridian I'd ever seen, and they appeared to be constantly moving, like the churning waves of the sea.

But a closer look told me he had seen hardship. His frame was lean, but muscular, and he held himself like a stretched rubber band; tensed and ready for anything. The boy's skin was flecked with tiny, almost imperceptible, scars; too wide to have been inflicted by a sharp weapon. They looked like the marks of someone's fist, meaning he'd seen a few fights.

He was interesting, to say the least.

A nurse took them on the tour, which I estimated would take ten (10) minutes.

**10:14 am**: The boy and his mother returned to the Lobby to say goodbye. He was wearing the patient uniform, but no wristband yet. He seemed worried, but not for himself. I heard snippets of their conversation.

"Love you too, mom." He was saying, his voice sounding choked. "Take care of yourself. If I hear that Gabe's been giving you a hard time..." The boy's eyes flashed dangerously, like stormy waves crashing against the rocky shore.

"Percy, I'll be fine." The mother replied nonchalantly, but I saw anxiety in her eyes. "See you soon."

She left the Lobby.

The boy, Percy, stood there for one (1) minute and fifty-three (53) seconds until he was approached by Nurse Dion, who was infamous around the Institution for his irritating attitude.

"Ahem."

Percy whirled around to face the nurse, shifting into a defensive position. This confirmed my earlier suspicions. He was definitely a fighter. Not classically or professionally trained, judging by his stance, but a fighter none the less.

It seemed Nurse Dion was Percy's caretaker, and he hadn't lost the annoying habit of purposely mispronouncing people's names. Percy followed the nurse out of the Lobby into the hallway leading to the Doctor's Offices.

My gaze trailed after him until the doors closed.

**10:15-11:59 am**: I stared out the window of the Lobby for one (1) hour and forty-four (44) minutes.

**12:00 pm**: I sat at my usual table in the Cafeteria and ate lunch without complaint.

**12:02 pm**: I noticed Percy. I always notice the new people. He was wearing a red wristband.

I glanced down at my own yellow wristband, mentally going over their meanings.

*Green meant they were harmless.

*Yellow meant they were a danger to themselves.

*Red meant they were a danger to themselves and others.

**12:04 pm**: I finished eating lunch and exited the Cafeteria, returning to my spot in the Lobby.

Like I said, autopilot.

* * *

**Percy's POV**

I trudged out of the cafeteria, hands in my pockets.

At this point, I wasn't really sure what to do with myself. It was only a little after twelve, and the outdoor hour wasn't until three. So I wandered into the lobby, my gaze sweeping the open space and landing on a solitary figure huddled by the window.

She had her back turned to me, but I figured it wouldn't do any harm to see if she wanted company. I approached her casually, making sure my footsteps were audible. I didn't want to startle her.

But then she turned around, and my heart skipped a beat.

Gray eyes found mine, and I forgot to breathe.

Her eyes looked the way rainy days felt. They were heavy and intense, yet oddly uplifting, both piercing and guarded. They held a quiet sort of power, like thunder, but they were sharp, and alight with energy, like lightning. They were cloudy, with the potential to become a storm.

Her face was framed by effortless blonde curls, colored a perfect gold and shining. Darker undertones highlighted alternating strands, giving her a natural look. Her features were well-defined and not particularly soft, but they were far from off-putting.

She was beautiful, in every sense of the word.

I realized I was just standing there creepily, and quickly shook myself from my stupor.

"H-hi there." I managed, giving her a timid smile. "I'm Percy." I held out my hand, which I realized was shaking slightly.

A few heartbeats passed. Those mesmerizing platinum eyes scrutinized my face briefly before trailing down the length of my arm to my outstretched hand. One of her eyebrows quirked upwards in a questioning glance.

I let my arm fall back to my side.

"I was, uh, just wondering if you wanted some company." I told her, rubbing the back of my neck. "If you want me to leave, I can." I added.

She studied me for a moment before nodding imperceptibly.

I hesitated, my brows furrowing.

"Do you mean yes, you want company, or yes, you want me to leave?" I asked, finding myself more intrigued with every moment spent in her presence, and desperately hoping she didn't want me to leave.

A shadow of a scowl crossed her features, her intelligent silver eyes flashing with irritation.

My lips parted slightly as realization dawned on me. She couldn't speak. Or maybe she _wouldn't_ speak. Or maybe she just _didn't_ speak. Either way, she wasn't going to be answering me soon.

"Oh, you're mute, aren't you?" I asked, frowning slightly. My eyes widened as soon at the words left my mouth. I was worried I'd been too brash. But oddly enough, the girl looked far from mad.

She gazed at me curiously, like I was something new. Something unexpected.

The girl nodded.

I was silent for a moment, my mood suddenly darkening. Whether she was mute by choice or from birth, I knew it couldn't be easy. If she was a selective mute, I was concerned about what had happened to this girl that had made her go silent.

"I'm sorry." I told her sincerely. She seemed surprised by this, her metallic eyes widening as her head tilted to the side inquisitively.

"I'll just ask yes or no questions." I promised. "Starting with this one. Would you like me to leave?" I held my breath.

Slowly, the girl shook her head, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. I took it, smiling gratefully.

"Thanks. Is there any way I could find out your name?" I asked her.

The girl stuck out her wrist, displaying a yellow band. I quickly read the words.

A.C. Room 2-06. Level 2.

I nodded thoughtfully.

"AC, huh?" I mused. "Like the air conditioner? Pretty fitting name, since you're such a _cool_ girl."

_Wait, did I really say that outloud?_

Her mouth fell open slightly, steely eyes flashing with mirth.

_I did._

I smacked my hand to my forehead, groaning.

"I'm so, so sorry." I apologized, my face reddening. "I promise, I'll never expose you to my bad humor again." I moved as if to stand up. "I should probably just leave, before I make another horrible pun..."

She was laughing now. It was an engaging and lively sound, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

I paused mid step, sending her a wondering glance. She smiled and gestured to the chair again. I sank back in my seat, my face still slightly flushed.

"Heh heh... can we pretend that never happened?" I pleaded. "Please, AC?" My eyelashes fluttered, my bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

Her shoulders were still shaking, but she nodded.

I let out a sigh of relief.

"Alright... moving on..." I coughed. "I think I oughta figure out your name. I'm pretty good at guessing." I shrugged.

AC quirked one of her eyebrows, smirking slightly like _'Go ahead.'_

I rested my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, fixing her with an intense stare.

"Hm... let's see now... Amy? Ally? Alex? Alexandra? Alexandria? Or Lexi for short? Aurora? Acadia? Abby? Abigail? Anastasia? Aubrey? Antiquinee? Aleah? Arwen?"

Each of my guesses was met with a shake of the head, AC's eyes flashing with amusement.

I frowned deeper, rubbing my chin thoughtfully.

"Tricky one, aren't you?" I mused. "Addie? Adriana? Agatha? Angela? Angelica? Agnes? Alisa? Alana? Aleah? Alexa? Alice? Alicia? Alison? Alyssa? Amberley? Amelia? Angel? April? Annie?"

The last one got a slight nod.

"Is Annie a short version of your name?" I asked her, feeling certain I was close.

Another nod.

"Is it... Annabelle?" I guessed confidently.

AC shook her head, grinning.

"Aw..." I grumbled, pretending to be upset. "Well then, what is it, wise girl?" I asked. "I've listed just about every female name starting with A known to man! And I'm pretty sure one of them is a tree!"

She just smiled that playful smile of hers, looking far too pleased with herself.

"Annabeth Chase!" A nurse called to us from the other side of the Lobby. "You're needed for a medical check-up!"

My eyes widened.

"No way!" I yelped. "Annabeth? The one name I didn't guess? Agh!"

AC, or _Annabeth_, just stood and waved her fingers at me teasingly, giving me a triumphant grin before walking towards the nurse, a slight spring in her step. The nurse shot me a curious glance before ushering Annabeth through a door.

I watched her leave, a small smile playing on my lips.

Annabeth.

It sure was a beautiful name...

* * *

**Annabeth's POV**

I followed my nurse out of the west door of the Lobby, into the west Hallway, turned right, and entered Doctor's Office number two (2), replaying recent events in my mind.

**12:04 pm**:I had seated myself in the upper left corner of the Lobby for three (3) minutes and twenty-seven (27) seconds.

**12:07 pm**: A seventeen (17) year old boy by the name of Percy Jackson approached me and introduced himself. After thirty-six (36) seconds, he realized I was mute and commented on it, which I found unusual. Most people tiptoe around me, pretending that I'm okay and refusing to acknowledge my condition, always apologizing and not knowing what to say. Percy was... different. And I appreciated that.

I 'introduced' myself as AC by presenting my wrist band. He made a cross between a pun and a compliment concerning the relation of my initials to air conditioning units.

"AC, huh?" He had said. "Like the air conditioner? Pretty fitting name, since you're such a _cool_ girl..."

**12:08 pm**: Percy Jackson made me laugh. It was the first (1st) time I'd laughed in two-hundred and sixty-four (264) days. It felt... good.

**12:08-12:09 pm**: I watched him list thirty-four (34) female names beginning with the letter A in an effort to guess my name, which I found amusing. My name was then revealed to him by my nurse Aleah*, which I was thankful for. I didn't really want to be called AC all the time, even though it was a pretty cute nickname.

**12:09 pm**: I had left the Lobby, feeling a fluttering inside my chest that was foreign, but pleasant.

This was new. I usually didn't like new things, preferring to stick to a standard, predictable life. I hadn't made a connection like that before at the Institution. Anyone who tried to talk to me eventually faded away, finding my language barrier too difficult to get around. But Percy... he seemed to genuinely care about me.

And while that was a definite change in the usual standard, it was a change I could get used to.


End file.
